


We May Be Bent, But We're Not Broken

by YouHaveBatBreath (orphan_account)



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types, The LEGO Batman Movie (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, But It'll All Be Okay, Disabled Character, Disablity, Drama, Lots of Angst, M/M, More angst, Romance, floofy babies falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-28 10:04:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11415600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/YouHaveBatBreath
Summary: Jack worked hard to have a normal life, to do normal things and have normal friends.That was before he met Bruce Wayne.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at summing up my stories. 
> 
> Thank you for reading tho!! 
> 
> I'm babybatjokes on tumblr, come give me a holler!

Silence. Everything was silence. There was a rare few hours of the day when Jack could really just truly enjoy the blissfulness of complete and total silence. It was like he was floating out of his own body, drifting dreamlessly through a sweet world of complete and total darkness, with nothing but a scant thought to keep him company. The silence was his peace, his sanity, it was the one thing that kept him grounded in the hustle and bustle and just the huge mess that was the world around him. 

Every morning he would wake himself up an hour or two before the rest of campus would open their eyes, and he would walk the short walk from his dorm over to the part of his school building that housed the art room. There was a much more thought-out name for such a place, but Jack liked to think of things in simple terms. Art, music, grass, wind, happiness, sadness, silence, and peace. Life was so much easier when you didn't have to strain yourself to try and keep up with all of the craziness that was the rest of humanity. 

The art room was his main goal, but he often let himself get distracted along the way, sometimes slipping his shoes off and walking through the grass alongside the path, just to feel the silky blades, still wet with morning dew, underneath of his feet. Sometimes he walked over to to the chime tree and just stood there for an hour, listening to the tinkling of the many wind chimes blowing in the early morning wind. 

Peace. It was peace inside of his mind. The quiet simple calm that surrounded him as he would make his way into the art room and take his seat at the very back of the room. He wouldn't lift a pencil, oh no, he would just sit in absolute silence and enjoy the way it made him feel like nothing else in the world mattered. 

That was the routine Jack followed every morning of the weekdays, and even a lot of Saturdays and Sundays. And that's what he found himself doing one Tuesday morning, just sitting in the total silence, enjoying it. Until it was broken. 

Footsteps echoed across the hallway floor. Heavy footsteps, but halting, as if the person walking wasn't quite sure where they were supposed to end up. Probably someone lost. From the sound that the shoes made against the elegantly tiled floors Jack would guess that whoever it was was probably rich and could afford nicer things than a pair of ratty sneakers with rubber soles that squeaked when they walked. He listened intently as the steps grew closer, stopping every couple seconds, a door opening and closing, more steps, another door following the motions of the first, more steps, they sounded like they had stopped right outside of the very room Jack himself was sitting in. Click. The squeak of the door hinges groaning as it swung open, and just one, two steps into the room that echoed around the walls. 

"Excuse me, is this Mrs Dawes class?" Jack's ears perked up at the sound of a male voice, his left brow raising curiously out of habit. The voice sounded interesting. 

"Are you talking to me?" He ventured, knowing that this person was, but asking anyways for the sheer fun of it. He didn't bother turning his head towards the direction of the door, just stared blankly down at his desk. 

"Yeah." Came the dull answer, no doubt a deadpanned expression came along with it. Jack could just imagine this guy, surely it was a guy, standing in the doorway, probably dressed up to the nines, most likely with dark hair perfectly combed over into the exact stereotype of a prissy rich boy. The rough, rich tones of the voice were thick though, as if he had just roused himself from sleep ten minutes prior to walking into the art room. He had probably forgotten to shave, and most likely had a little layer of stubble giving his cheeks and chin a delightfully scratchy texture. 

"I'll answer you if you'll answer me a question." He said, feeling around his desk for where he had placed his water bottle. His hand wrapped around the cool plastic and he shivered slightly at the wet condensation that had gathered along the sides of the bottle. The slickness felt good against his palm. 

He faintly heard those shoes shuffling and he let a smirk slide onto his lips. Good, he wasn't leaving, that meant that this stranger was probably planning on playing along with Jack's little game. How fun. He rarely managed to encounter anyone who was really any fun. He listened intently as those steps finally advanced towards him and felt a small victory in himself. 

"What do you want to know?" The voice sounded somewhat guarded, but it was oh so much more delicious this close. The hint of bass in the undertones gave off the air of a voice that could reach much, much deeper, and the silky smooth way of speaking told of class and excellent breeding, though no amount of teaching and speech lessons could take away the glorious growl of the voice that seemed to be naturally rough and full of texture. 

"Did you forget to shave this morning?" Jack couldn't keep the lilting giggle out of his voice as he asked, his lips curving upwards. He wasn't really looking at this stranger, and he wasn't looking away from him either, but he could hear the faintest of gasps at his question and the sound of skin rubbing along bristle. 

"I did." This time the voice sounded slightly amused. "I didn't even think about it this morning honestly." Jack nodded, letting himself laugh lightly along with this other man. 

"I'm Bruce Wayne." The shifting of cloth and the sudden very light scent of lavender hand soap alerted Jack to Bruce's hand somewhere near him. He tentatively reached his own out, leaving it in a general direction until this mysterious stranger, Bruce, grasped it in his own and shook it. 

"Jack Napier." He murmured his name almost absent-mindedly, his thoughts trying to process how large Bruce's hand felt as it nearly wrapped around Jack's own much smaller one, how the skin was rough and calloused, grating in a pleasant way against Jack's soft, delicate palm. He let the touch break naturally and took a small moment to take a drink out of his water bottle. 

"Okay, you played along, so let me get up and I'll take you to Mrs Dawes classroom." He said, standing before Bruce could protest, which he did anyways. 

"No, its fine if you're busy, you could just tell me how to get there." Jack giggled at that and shook his head. 

"I'm better at navigating then I am directing." He said, stooping to pick up his walking stick. He turned around, took one step forward, and ran right into a wonderfully firm body. One hand reflexively struck out to balance himself, bracing against Bruce's chest. He was pleasantly surprised to feel those thick hands at his waist, steadying him. 

"Whoops, didn't see you there." He joked, taking a step back, regrettably away from the hands on his waist. "You must be used to people putting their hands all over you, am I right? You just _smell _handsome."__

__"Wh- well, I suppose.." Bruce's voice was slightly off-kilter, twisting at all of the wrong places. Jack wanted to laugh out loud when he realized what was wrong; this rough-voiced stranger was flustered!_ _

__"Don't mind my bluntness," He used his free hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind his ear, not even trying to hide how boldly flirtatious the move was. "You have to find some way to have fun when you can't see people's expressions."_ _

__"Can't see people's expressions?" Oh dear this one might be kind of simple._ _

__Jack sighed to himself and reached up, his hand finally locating Bruce's face. "Yes, dearie, I can't see you." He said casually, letting his fingers wander up this undoubtedly handsome man's jaw and slide up to whisper across his eyes. He felt the lids closing under his touch. "These things just don't work for me." He let his hand fall, sliding gently back down Bruce's face just to enjoy the scratch of his shadow on Jack's hand._ _

__"You're blind." It wasn't a question._ _

__"Don't feel sorry for me." Jack said, all traces of teasing gone from his voice. "I am perfectly fine, I don't need your pity, and I especially don't need anyone's help." He hated when people automatically assumed that because he was blind that he couldn't do anything by himself. He had grown up teaching himself to cope with his disability and it barely slowed him down anymore. But despite his competence there were still people who treated him like a china doll, who thought he would break at a touch, people who would always ask if he wanted help and generally wouldn't take it easy if he declined. He had learned early on to just smile at everyone and say "no", and he had begun avoiding people because of how they acted._ _

__There was a brief second of silence between them, the only sound was their breaths, mingling in the shared air around them. Jack's mild irritation was like sparks in the air, he was sure that his face was twisted into an entirely disagreeable expression._ _

__"I wasn't pitying you." The words were soft, quiet. A simple whisper in the darkness of Jack's world, a brush of honesty in a world of lies. He listened intently for any hint of dishonestly and, to his surprise, found none. He scoffed regardless._ _

__"I wasn't pitying you." It was louder now, more assured. "I was impressed." Jack raised a brow inquisitively. "I know this sounds completely insensitive, but you seemed completely normal to me. I was impressed with how well you seemed to have adjusted despite not being able to see." The voice tapered off at the end, sounding embarrassed and sheepish. It was rather cute, maybe Jack could forgive him._ _

__A bitter laugh bubbled out of him at Bruce's words though. "I was born without my sight and I've lived without it for twenty-three years, it's hardly something I enjoy discussing anymore." He cleared his throat and let his smile shine bright again. "So I'll forgive you your ignorance if you'll let me take you to Mrs Dawes class without treating me like an invalid, hows that sound, Brucie?"_ _

__A small laugh and rustle of cloth barely gave him warning before a brush of thick fingers over his cheek made his skin go red. Bruce's hand smelled like lavender and sweat as his thumb traced Jack's cheekbone. "I can agree with that." The whisper was guttural, and gravelly, sending curious chills down Jack’s spine. “If… you agree to have lunch with me sometime.” He felt the ghost of Bruce’s breath tickling his ear and he felt an excited knot tie in his stomach._ _

__“I think I can live with that.” He teased, his own voice taking on a different tone as his excitement leaked into it. His free hand reached up and gently guided Bruce’s hand away from his face. He squeezed those thick fingers gently and then let them fall. His smile wasn't fading, he could feel it spreading wider on his face as Bruce’s scent surrounded him._ _

__They separated slowly and Jack cleared his throat again, chuckling softly. He was still drowning in Bruce's smell. "Well then, shall we go?"_ _

__~_ _

__It was nearly eleven on a lazy Saturday morning and Jack was sitting on his bed in his dorm, listening to Bruce pick away on his acoustic guitar. It wasn't cold, but it wasn't hot. It was a pleasant feeling. The sheets were rumpled beneath him, in a disarray after Jack had rolled around on them that morning, giggling softly to himself while his phone read to him that Bruce was planning on coming over to hang out._ _

__It was becoming a kind of routine with them anymore; spending most of their free time together. Since the first day that they had met they had become very good friends, and after that it had only strengthened, though neither felt too anxious to bring light to the blatantly obvious attraction between them.  
Jack felt perfectly content to leave their relationship nameless, titles made everything difficult. Plus it was hard to think of a proper one for someone that he loved hanging out with as a friend, but also loved cuddling on movie nights, and maybe takes up a big role in his steamy dreams at night._ _

__They had had a conversation once about dreams. It had been a long and very curious talk that eventually ended up with Bruce jokingly asking Jack who he saw in his wet dreams. Jack had laughed in Bruce’s face, or where he thought his face was, and told stories of tall faceless men with rough voices and strong hands. That's when they very firmly established that Jack liked men. He had thought that it was very cute how, shortly after Jack’s own admission, Bruce had ‘come out’ as well. The rest of the conversations had trickled off into a much longer talk about sexual preferences and previous partners._ _

__Despite the unusually suggestive nature of their first meeting, Bruce hadn't made a move after that to try and push for anything beyond friends. Jack wouldn't have complained if he had, but he was really enjoying the slow burn sort of thing they had going on. He could tell that Bruce liked him, even if he couldn't see him, he just knew. And the feeling was very, very mutual. Mutual enough that Jack had allowed Bruce into his dorm room, a place that was his and his alone; his sanctuary._ _

__Bruce had asked him once, after the first time they had met, if Jack had ever had any boyfriends. He had replied no. And in a way he wasn't lying. Jack hadn't ever had a boyfriend. He had been with a few lovers, a one night stand or two, and that one time when he got really fucking drunk and let his best friend, Harley, sit on his dick. That had been weird for a little while. So yes, he hadn't ever had any boyfriends, but something about Bruce made him want to change that._ _

__“Hey, dipshit, you're smiling like a dork again.”_ _

__And of course Harley was there._ _

__“Remind me why I actually let you in?” Jack grumbled, not bothering to turn his head towards the bathroom where Harley was probably sticking her head out to watch Jack make an idiot of himself while listening to Bruce pluck away at the guitar strings. He reached for the closest soft thing he could find and threw it in the general direction of her voice, thankfully there wasn't any breaking glass._ _

__“Because you love me, and also because Pamela kicked me out and I didn't have anywhere else to go.” Jack scoffed at that, wrinkling his nose._ _

__“If I had any sense I would kick you out too.” He murmured under his breath, his words earning him a booming laugh from Bruce, who had stopped playing to listen to their conversation, and an indignant “hmph” from Harley._ _

__“Why did Pamela kick you out?” Jack listened curiously at Bruce’s question. The sound of the door slamming was the only answer he got, and Jack got to laugh at that one. It was only a few minutes before the shower started running and Jack felt comfortable to relax again without his annoying childhood friend making fun of him._ _

__“Why did you let her in?” Bruce’s voice was light and teasing, there was no doubt in Jack’s mind that a cute little smirk was on the other man’s face._ _

__“She’s pathetic,” he answered, laughing. “I feel sorry for her.”_ _

__There wasn't very many people that Jack had ever truly enjoyed being around, and Bruce and Harley were the only two that really stuck by him. Sure, Bruce had only known him for a few weeks, but they had bonded incredibly fast._ _

__A few moments passed, the silence was broken up with the sounds of Jack’s fingers scratching lightly on his pants leg, and Bruce’s fingers plucking at the guitar strings once again. The melody was familiar, but not quite recognizable. He felt himself smiling as he hummed along with the repetitive tune._ _

__“You know, you're really beautiful.”_ _

__Jack had become accustomed to Bruce’s odd and very blunt way of saying exactly what was on his mind. Like the way when he first met Harley he had told her that she looked like a court jester, whatever those looked like. It probably wasn't a nice thing because she had snapped at him and stormed away. Jack hadn't seen where she went, but he could tell that she was leaving because of the furious clicking of his shoes on the sidewalk. Despite being used to it, it still made Jack’s cheeks turn warm when Bruce said something nice about him. It wasn't the first time that he had told Jack that he was beautiful, but that was one thing he didn't think he would ever get used to._ _

__“Oh stop it,” Jack giggled, turning his face away from the sound of Bruce’s voice. “I don't know what I look like, but I'm sure that it's not beautiful.” There wasn't a single shred of false modesty in his voice as he spoke either, because Jack truly didn't know how anyone could think that he was pretty when he didn't even know what pretty looked like._ _

__“Do you want me to tell you?” He started at that. Bruce’s voice was different, almost excited, almost scared. It seemed to be balancing a thin line and Jack felt his stomach do a flip at the possibilities of what that meant._ _

__“Tell me… what?”_ _

__“What you look like.”_ _

__Harley had tried that once, but all Jack had gotten out of it was that he was skinny and pale. He understood skinny, he could feel the bones lightly beneath his skin, and he knew that it wasn't like Harley, who had a layer of softness around her body. She called herself fat, but he thought that she felt lovely._ _

__“O-okay?” He wasn't quite sure, but he was also excited, his heart picking up the pace._ _

__He didn't know what he was expecting, but when Bruce's voice sounded he nearly jumped, because it was right near the bed where Jack was sitting. He could probably extend his leg and feel Bruce’s body._ _

__“You look like you're shining.” Bruce’s voice was low, a soft growl. “The sun is coming in through the window and it makes your hair glow like a star in the night. It's very blond, but when the sun hits it it looks golden.” Golden? What was that? “Your skin is flawless, I know more than a few girls who would kill to have your complexion.” Jack bit back an unbelieving laugh. “You're beautiful, Jack. In every possible way.”_ _

__The bed creaked under a new weight and Jack felt his heart jump into his throat. He dared to tentatively reach out and a tiny gasp escaped his lips when a large, very warm hand enclosed around his._ _

__“Bruce?” He could hear the tremble in his own voice and didn't bother to hide his nervousness._ _

__“Your eyes are green.” No one had ever told him that before. People usually tried to avoid looking at his eyes, despite the fact that he couldn't see them looking. He didn't know what to do, he just lifted his chin in the general direction of Bruce’s voice._ _

__“Your nose is pointed, with a cute little upturn at the end,” A deep laugh echoed in the tiny space between them. “It suits you perfectly.”_ _

__“And your lips…” He could hear Bruce’s heartbeat, racing right along with his. Two beats syncing together on one mess. “Are so irresistible.”_ _

__Jack was more then ready when Bruce’s mouth pressed against his. It was like coming home even though you'd never been there before. Bruce's lips were firm and commanding, pushing so lightly against Jack’s at first, and then harder. It was like a hunger setting in, Jack’s breath getting away from him, and when he opened his mouth to breath in, Bruce took the opportunity to explore inside._ _

__Jack was drowning in sensation. Big, rough hands were running up and down his arms, the tickle of Bruce’s teeth gently biting down on his lip made him moan, a wave of heat hitting him and making his body roar with desire. “B-Bruce,” He managed to stutter in between heavy kisses. “Bruce, thi-s isn't the time.”_ _

__It was amazing how quickly the bigger man scrambled away from him, stammering apologies about crossing the line and he's so sorry. Jack just laughed at him, he was so cute._ _

__“Come here,” he said extending his hand, his voice still weak as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't see you, so you have to come to me.” It took a moment of patience, but soon enough Bruce took his hand. He still loved how wonderfully rough the skin was against his own palm._ _

__“Now listen, cookie,” he began, stroking over Bruce’s palm with his thumb. “There's nothing more I’d like to do then lay in this bed all day and make out with you, but preferably not when my annoying best friend could come out of the bathroom at any time and take the mickey out of me for it.” He smiled sweetly, or what he figured was sweetly, at the bigger man._ _

__He lifted his hand and traced the lines of Bruce’s face with his fingertips. He felt the corners of his mouth turning up. “So what about when she leaves?” Bruce’s voice was positively sinful, a tone that made Jack’s entire body feel warm._ _

__“Well then…” Jack whispered, his voice breathless. “We’ll have to see then, won't we?”_ _

__~_ _

__It was nearly an entire week later after the first of many heated kisses between them before Jack and Bruce got to spend an entire day alone together. One of the things that Jack loved about the thing between them was the crazy spontaneity of Bruce’s advances. He never knew when it was going to be a day when the other guy wanted to just hang out, or spend the day making out and mapping out each other's bodies with touches._ _

__It was Friday, but because of the 100 plus degree weather outside and the fact that the air conditioning system was malfunctioning in the classrooms both Jack and Bruce were stowed away in Jack’s dorm room, laying on the wooden floor in front of three fans that they had set up around them._ _

__Jack, the younger of the two of them, wasn't at all shy about shedding his layers, which left him in his boxers and a tank top, and his tank top would probably soon join his discarded clothes because he could feel it soaked through with sweat and it was sticking to his skin. He wasn't entirely sure what Bruce was wearing, but he delighted in reaching over after a small nap and finding that his fingers met with the hot skin and thick, wiry hair of Bruce’s chest._ _

__“Is it dark?” He asked, not really bothering to explain what he meant. He figured it was probably pretty self-explanatory with his fingers carding through the forest covering Bruce’s pectorals._ _

__“All of my hair is dark.” Bruce’s voice was thick again, just like the first time they had met. He must have just woken up as well. “It's a family thing, I don't know if there's been a single light-haired person born to the Wayne bloodline.”_ _

__“That's nice.” Jack stretched out his limbs, curving his back and reaching as far as he could just to hear the satisfying crack of his bones settling back into their rightful places. He had done that before and Bruce had teased him about looking like a happy cat._ _

__He rolled over and, despite Bruce’s protests about it being too hot, Jack snuggled up against him. He sighed contently, not bothered the least that his chin was pressed against the coarseness of Bruce’s chest hair. If anything, the close proximity with the older man’s body made him want to cause trouble. And trouble was what he did best._ _

__He seemed to be innocent as he tugged his hands up to his chest, letting them rest by his chin, which was probably why Bruce realized that something was up. Jack had to giggle when Bruce asked him exactly what. He just nuzzled in closer, feeling happy and extremely mischievous as Bruce’s thick, muscular arm rested around him, holding him close._ _

__He waited for a little bit until Bruce’s breathing evened and his arm went slack and then Jack began nosing his way up the older man’s neck, breathing in the musky smell of Bruce’s sweat with a lingering smell of his cologne. He licked gently at the base of Bruce’s neck and nibbled his collarbone. He wondered exactly what it would take to wake up the sleeping giant. He took it as a personal challenge to find out._ _

__The smaller man was able to move his body able to easily without rustling the other, even with Bruce's arm slung over him. He licked under Bruce’s jaw and felt a little rush of excitement run through him when it felt rough under his tongue, scratchy with morning stubble. He loved that. He sucked a gently hickey into Bruce’s clavicle, wishing so badly that he could see the results of his work. The best he got was a slight stir and a groan._ _

__When using his mouth seemed to not be working he let his hands wander, one sliding around Bruce’s wide side, and the other tentatively mapping out his pectorals. He was only a little hesitant as he slipped his fingers across the heated flesh and gently thumbed over Bruce’s nipple, a giddy rush hitting him when he felt the bud pebble under his touch. He felt almost like a child again, the same feeling of doing something naughty while there was a very good chance that he would get caught. He was counting on getting caught._ _

__Bruce tasted like skin and sweat, all salt and musk. Jack couldn't help just breathing it in and letting it fill his senses, it made his head spin. His mouth was working over Bruce’s collarbones, his fingers still toying with his nipples, switching from one to the other and enjoying the panting breaths groaning past Bruce’s lips. It was a truly euphoric experience, not in the same sense as one would group things such as an orgasm, but euphoric on a level all its own._ _

__“Baby, why can't I sleep the day off?” Bruce’s mumble almost made Jack freeze, almost. He giggled against Bruce’s undoubtedly bruised skin, kissing it gently in small pecks. The sweat drops collecting on the older man’s body didn't bother him._ _

__“Because there are so many more… fun ways to spend the day.” He murmured, his tone speaking things that he had barely dared hint at before. “Don’t you agree, Brucie?” His tongue slipped out to lick teasingly, earning himself a breathy “Sure” from his… what was Bruce? Boyfriend? Lover? He wasn't quite sure, because he knew that both of those categories needed there to be heavy, love-like feelings involved. He knew he cared for Bruce, and the feeling was mutual, but it wasn't love. Not yet anyways. He had hope though, because as Bruce rolled him over and knelt over his body, thick thighs framing in Jack’s much smaller ones, and his mouth descending to ravish and undo the perfect sanity that was Jack’s mind, he knew that it really wouldn't be all that hard for him to fall in love with the gentle giant that was Bruce Wayne._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, just a fair warning chapters will be slowwwwwww. I'm in the process of moving, so I've got a lot of crap to do!

In the end it was Harley’s idea. Though she had originally got it from Pamela, who had gotten it from Harvey, who had been talking to Rachel, who had told Harvey that they should do it. Harley had embellished it and finally told it to Bruce and Jack, so they decided to give her full credit for the idea. 

As the days continued to hit triple digits on the thermostat through the week it was becoming increasingly harder to want to drag oneself out of bed in the morning. The cooling systems had been repaired halfway through the week, but it still was unbearably hot any time that they weren't inside of the classrooms. Even the hallways were hot. Jack had never been more excited about summer break.

He had been complaining about the heat for a good hour before Harley volunteered her idea for them, and now, as the sun set across the campus, they were putting it into action. It was a Thursday night, so their whole summer was theirs anyways.

Jack was most likely going to compromise them though, because he just couldn't stop giggling as they snuck out of their dorms and tiptoed across the campus to where Bruce had parked his car. Jack was more than willing to let Bruce take his arm and lead him this time, his uncontrollable giggles muffled with his other hand. 

It wasn't that it was strictly forbidden to leave school grounds, but sneaking off of school grounds after curfew with an upper classman would definitely be very suspicious and probably warrant an explanation and possibly a punishment if they were caught, even though everyone would be leaving the next day. All they were missing was a half-day of classes. Jack couldn't help his laughter, the thrill of the whole thing catching up to him and pouring out in little torrents of snickers and snorts that he failed miserably in trying to muffle. 

Thankfully, probably thanks to some mischievous deity who felt pity for the two clumsy messes, nobody found them, and they found themselves bursting into loud, pent-up laughter as they sped away in Bruce’s fancy sports car. 

Jack had never felt anything like the wind whipping in his hair as they drove. The windows were all down and all he could hear was the roar of the engine and the beating of his own heart. It was freedom, it was pure and clean bliss. He couldn't help turning his face towards the wind and whooping his joy out to the world. He vaguely heard Bruce laughing behind him. 

Jack couldn't see around him, but he could feel it. He could smell the change of smoggy city air turn to the fresh, wonderful scent of country. He could hear the buzz of insects in the air, he could taste the night on his tongue and feel the whip of cool air against his skin. 

He didn't know if he’d ever felt such a peaceful happiness in his entire life as when he was racing down the road at twenty miles over the speed limit, with a man six years older than him and absolutely no idea where the hell they were going. 

The road was long and the night was short, and it was only a few hours before Jack could feel the faint warmth of the sun on his skin, the first rays of the day likely peeking through the car window and kissing his skin. He heaved a contented sigh and leaned his head over to lay on the open windowsill, the early morning breezes whipping his hair into a mess. 

Bruce was going slower now, the engine was just a low purr in the background, and Jack understood why when the sounds of a waking town began to reach his ears. “Where are we?” He murmured, reaching over and feeling his fingers brush over Bruce’s arm. “Brucie, babe, where did you whisk me off to?”

“It's a secret.” Bruce’s voice sounded tired. He had been driving all night, so it made sense.

“If you tell me to close my eyes I'm going to stab you.” Jack said, sticking his tongue out childishly. All he got was a chuckle. 

Jack was more than happy to cling to Bruce’s arm and let him lead him around the unfamiliar territory, half because he didn't want to trip over something and make himself look like an idiot, but also because he loved feeling Bruce’s muscular arm under his touch. He really wouldn't have guessed off the bat that Bruce was a muscle man, but he was so wrong because Bruce was a fucking brick wall of muscle mass. He loved being able to be proud that he was the one on this undoubtedly gorgeous man’s arm while all of the teenage girls tittered as they walked by. 

The first thing that they did was checked themselves into a hotel. They had to go into an elevator, so he guessed that their room was up pretty high. When they walked into the room he detached himself from the older man and felt around until he managed to find the bathroom door and slipped inside. He took a piss and when he came back out he heard the telltale sound of snoring. He laughed at Bruce quietly and followed the sound over to where he found the older man spread out across the bed. Jack kicked his shoes off and joined him, snuggling up into Bruce’s side and letting himself slip into sleep. 

It was a few hours later when Jack woke back up, Bruce was still sleeping, so he gently wiggles away from him, not wanting to deprive him of some well-deserved rest.

They had both sent most of their stuff to their respective homes, but Jack had packed away several pairs of clothes and other essential things for both of them, he didn't know what they would need, so he had a little bit of everything. He rummaged around and located a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a pair of underwear, then escaped to the bathroom for a shower. 

He stripped down and stepped into the stall. He bit back a shout of surprise at the initial first spray of cold water before the water warmed. For some reason it always surprised him that the water was cold at first. The soap was in a little wrapper, which he found incredibly inconvenient, but the rags were soft, so it balanced out. 

He soaped himself up and scrubbed tip to toe, his skin tingling from his treatment. He strained his arms to try and wash all of his back, but it just wasn't working. Oh well. He went back to washing his arms and underarms. The water running over and in his ears was preventing him from hearing anything, which was why he nearly lost his shit when a hand grabbed his waist. 

“What the hell?!” He snapped when Bruce started laughing. He was too embarrassed and angry to be modest about his nakedness. “Why don't you learn to knock? You scared the life out of me!” 

“I did knock.” Bruce’s voice was calm in the enclosed space around them. “You didn’t answer, so I figured you couldn't hear me.” The hand resting on Jack’s waist tightened its grip, pulling him forward. He melted when the other hand lifted his chin and Bruce stole his breath in a kiss. 

The water was running down his back and over his face and Bruce tasted like mints and soda, and just Bruce. Jack moaned weakly into his mouth, hating how whorish he sounded, but unable to regret it when Bruce's hips pushed up against his. He gasped, his cheeks flooding with warmth at the touch of the older man’s cock against his stomach. There was no way that had happened just in that little bit of time… Bruce must have came in with this exact scenario in mind. Fuck. 

The kisses broke away from his mouth and Jack turned his head to the side to let Bruce trail a line of kisses and hickeys down his jaw and his neck, torturing an especially sensitive spot just below his ear. Jack was writhing, his hips not knowing whether to push or pull, his hands clutching at Bruce’s chest. 

It was almost a surprise when Bruce cupped one large hand under Jack’s thigh and lifted it to wrap around his hips. Jack helped with the other, curling it around and locking his ankles to keep himself up, though it made it much harder to concentrate with the way the new position made his dick rub so perfectly up against Bruce’s.

There was no finesse to the way the moved against each other. It was hot and messy and needy, mouths crashing against each other, tongues and teeth meeting in wild abandon. To a viewer it probably would have been considered distasteful, but Jack was in absolute heaven. He didn't bother to muffle his moans, and what didn't get drowned out by the running shower was anyone’s to hear. 

Their peak came much too soon and yet not soon enough, both of them were panting and shaking, blood rushing as the water washed away their sin. Jack felt weak, and Bruce let him down gently and let him rest against his firm body. Jack enjoyed the sweet touches as Bruce rewashed him, scrubbing his hair and rinsed him off. He even toweled him off when they got out. 

He squealed when Bruce wrapped him up in one of the hotels massive towels and picked him up. He was carried bridal-style out to the other room and plopped on the bed. He pulled the other man down with him and made a dramatic show of dying when Bruce landed on his legs. The two snuggled back up together in the bed and Jack felt content. 

Sleeping like this was so much more intimate. They had slept together a lot, but they were always wearing clothes. The towel was bound to come off in their sleep, and Jack woke up with his body pressed tightly against Bruce’s, absolutely nothing between them. He could feel every inch of Bruce’s front pressing against him and he was pretty sure he had died and gone to heaven. He didn't even bother to address the way it made his heart race. 

Apparently they had wasted the day away because when Bruce woke up he announced that it was evening again. What better thing did they have to do but lay in bed and make out? Eat. That wasn't exactly higher on Jack’s list of priorities, but his stomach was insistent and so was Bruce, so the two got dressed and headed downstairs. 

Jack decided that the town they were in, whatever town it was, was much more pleasant in the evening. The sound of music was flitting along the breeze, the smell of salt and the sea telling him that they weren't far from the ocean. He loved listening to the ocean, it had always been something that he looked forward to the summer for. 

They found a restaurant down close enough that Jack could hear the waves of the ocean crashing in the background. He wanted so badly to toe off his shoes and see if the ground would feel sandy beneath his feet. Bruce ordered for both of them, and Jack tentatively sipped on the drink he was brought. It tasted like pineapple and sunshine. It was really good, but a little different than Jack’s normal taste. He drank it all anyways. 

“I can hear the ocean.” He murmured, halfway through dinner. “Its such a calming sound, just the waves crashing in and out, day and night, one of the most powerful forces on the earth and it seems totally harmless.” 

“A sleeping giant.” Bruce’s voice was mostly admiring and slightly amused. By then Jack knew that Bruce loved it when he got caught up in himself over something, so he wasn't offended in the slightest, only shy. 

“My parents used to take me to the ocean.” He confided, his mind pouring out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Every year, as soon as the school year ended they would take me to the ocean, and I would be allowed to sit in the sand and listen to the waves. Occasionally they wouldn't be watching close enough and the waves would come in and lap at my feet, it felt wonderful. They never wanted me to be in the water though. They thought it would knock me over and drown me because I can't see properly to brace against it.” 

“You’ve spent twenty three years of your life listening to the ocean, and you've never once been able to feel it for yourself?” It was endearing the way Bruce sounded defensive, as if someone had committed a personal offense against him. His voice was incredulous.

“No.” Jack answered simply, a small smile curving up his lips. “I didn't mind though. I like listening to the waves.”

“Hell no.” Bruce said, slapping his hand down on the table. “You've waiting twenty three years, you're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you wait any longer!” He helped Jack up, one arm looped through another as they walked out of the restaurant. Jack vaguely thought that Bruce must have slapped some money down on the table with his fist because walking out without paying wasn't something he would do. 

Jack’s heart was thudding in his chest as they approached the water. He could hear the waves crashing louder and louder, he could only dream of what the sea looked like. He couldn't remember being so excited in such a long time, and he didn't know if it was because of what he was doing or who he was doing it with. 

“Come on, let's get rid of the clothes.” Bruce said, letting go of Jack’s arm. “There's nobody around and it will suck to walk back to the hotel if they’re wet.” 

Bruce really had a point, so Jack hesitantly shed his clothes, unreasonably shy considering they had been more intimate together than he had ever been with a person before. He could almost feel Bruce’s eyes on him. His shoes disappeared and he felt a massive smile break across his face. There was sand beneath his feet, and it did feel absolutely wonderful!! 

He was clear down to his shorts when Bruce stopped him. “That's enough, sweetheart, don't want to give anybody else a free show.” The husky possessiveness in his voice made Jack want to sigh. 

Jack let Bruce fold their hands together and lead him to the water. The first rush of the cool waves across his feet gave him a chill and he laughed when it hit his calves. The didn't stop walking though, and Jack went through an agonizing process of having the icy water slide up his body much quicker than it was adjusting to. 

Jack was hesitant to go any further than where the water was covering his hips and splashing his chest, but he trusted Bruce, so he let him lead him out to where the water was at his waist and the waves were breaking across his shoulders. He took comfort in the fact that Bruce seemed to be much more stable than he was. It was a nice excuse to be able to hold tightly to the other, his body feeling like it wanted to just float away on the waves. 

The ocean smelled like salt, and when it splashed him in the face while he was laughing it got in his mouth and it tasted like salt too. He could feel the sand and chunks of broken shells beneath his toes, it was probably his imagination, but he would swear he felt tiny legs skitter across his foot. 

It was just exactly how wonderful Bruce had described it. He had spent his life dreaming of it and he just couldn't quite believe that he was actually getting to experience it now. He shivered in delight (and from the cold) and pulled himself up in the water to find Bruce’s mouth with his own. 

The water was cold and Bruce was so, so warm, and Jack could add another moment to his life where he just hadn't ever felt happier. There would be so many more of them in the future that he would someday look back and laugh at how he thought he was happy just then, but for now it was absolutely perfect. 

The first explosion scared him. 

It was followed by a screaming squeal and another explosion that rocked him to his core. He clung to Bruce like a barnacle to the side of a dock. “It's so loud!” He had to scream the words to be heard over the roar. 

“It’s fireworks!” Bruce yelled back. “I guess that's why nobody else was out in the water, they're shooting them off right above us!” He sounded excited, and his chest rumbled with laughter each time a new boom sounded. “I always loved fireworks.”

Jack was silent, a moment of bitterness overcoming him. He wanted so badly to be able to share this thing with Bruce. It was one of the only times that he had ever really been upset that he couldn't see. “What do they look like?” He asked finally, longing to put an image to the massive explosions shaking his very being. He wiggled his toes in the sand, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing. 

“They're beautiful.” Bruce’s voice was nearly reverent. “It’s like a rainbow lighting up the sky, but brighter and more wonderful. Its really hard to describe, but they're honestly one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen in my life.” One large hand cupped his chin gently and the other held him firmly around his back. “Except you, of course.”

Jack was stunned. Never in his life had he ever met someone who was so easily able to see when he needed comfort, and Bruce just… just knew. Jack was sure that it was the spray of the sea dripping down his cheeks and he couldn't help a giving Bruce a little smile, too completely and totally happy to say anything. 

They barely spoke for the rest of the night, communicating only through soft touches and gentle brushes. There was a sweet companionship between them as they walked back to the hotel. If Jack was a completely hopeless romantic he would have imagined little hearts floating around them and sickly sweet music playing in the background. 

As it was there was the sound of people cheering over the finished display of fireworks, and some plinky country music spilling out of what was surely a bar that they walked past. It wasn't the picture perfect romance, but with Bruce’s hand wrapped around his Jack wouldn't have changed a thing. 

~

It was a lovely morning. Jack had woken up and let his phone read to him that it was barely eight. He had roused Bruce and insisted that they go enjoy the outside world, which was how they found themselves wandering down the Main Street of the town they were in (Jack still didn't know the name) and doing just exactly that. 

“Cherry, lime, or blue raspberry?” Bruce asked, somewhat abruptly. 

Jack laughed. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“We should get a shave ice.” Bruce explained, his tone telling Jack that he was grinning and expecting him to agree. “There's a vendor up here and it sounds good.”

Jack stood next to Bruce as he ordered, taking in the myriad of different smells coming from the stand. He twitched his nose curiously. “Do you have cotton candy flavor?” He ventured, hoping that his nose hadn't betrayed him. 

“We sure do, sugar, you wantin’ that one?” 

Jack just smiled and nodded. He felt victorious in an entirely silly way. 

“You kids here for the festival?” Given the way the vendor’s voice felt tight and worn Jack could only guess that it was a woman in her later years, likely her fifties. He supposed that, to her, him and Bruce, both younger than thirty, would be kids. 

“We actually didn't know there was a festival in town.” Bruce answered, a thick layer of charm coating his husky baritone. “Sounds fun, doesn't it, babe?”

“It actually does.” Jack admitted, taking his shave ice when Bruce pressed it to his hand. He took a lick and ‘hmm’ed. “Thank you very much.” He thanked the vendor as they began to walk away. 

“Of course,” she answered. “You kids have fun now, you hear?” Judging by the laughter in her voice Jack could only imagine she would go back to work and laugh to herself while thinking about two crazy boys holding hands and eating shave ice while walking down the street. She probably appreciated the simple innocence of it all. He did enjoy people like that, the ones who just appreciated the simple things of life. He felt like a teenager again. 

The festival, as it would seem, was hiding down the street a ways from where Bruce and Jack had stayed the night, but Jack could hear it before Bruce seen it. He could hear the chatter of people and the smell of expensive deep-fried food and cotton candy, the real kind of cotton candy. His shave ice suddenly tasted a little less appetizing. 

“Is there a crazy ton of people?” Jack asked, his fingers clenching through Bruce’s. He didn't like large crowds, he always ended up bumping into person after person, and he hated how stupid it made him feel.

“No,” Bruce answered, seeming to sense Jack’s unease. “It’s a small town, there’s not a huge crowd.” That made him feel infinitely better and he even ended up enjoying himself quite a bit. 

They played several games, Bruce insisting that Jack play too, and to everyone’s shock (no one said they were shocked, but he could tell) he managed to get lucky and toss a ring over one of the bottles. He won a fluffy, stuffed… something that Bruce insisted was cute, which probably meant that it was butt-ugly. He proudly carried it anyways. 

There was a band playing somewhere around the festival, probably a local band, but they covered a lot of great songs and Bruce and Jack ended up by the stage with a bunch of kids that were probably eighteen and danced along. Jack couldn't even imagine how silly he looked, but he didn't even care because The Beach Boys was playing, the sun was pouring down on him, and he had Bruce’s hand wrapped around his own. He had never felt so alive. 

After the band took a break they went to go explore the booths. Jack got his hair spray died green, because Bruce said it would be a good look for him, and Jack insisted they both get temporary tattoos shaped like bats after Bruce had admitted to a fear of them. “Face your fears, then they can't control you.” He had said with a smile. 

It was simple. It was just peace with himself. There was nothing complicated about it, just sweet, sweet happiness and innocence of pure love. 

The air was warm and his heart was light and he wanted to stay in that moment forever. 

The walk back to the hotel that evening was quiet, the town winding down after a full day. Jack’s arms were full of stuff that Bruce had bought (or won) for him, and Bruce was carrying the stuffed thing that Jack had won. They were laughing about something or other that had happened that day, be it the hair dying adventure, or when Bruce had accidentally spilled his soda all over an old lady. She hadn't been amused. 

The car came out of nowhere. 

Jack was pretty sure they were crossing the street to the hotel and suddenly he was shoved, hard. He flew forward several feet and fell to the ground, scraping his knees and his palms in a desperate attempt to catch himself. In the background he barely registered the screeching of tires and the blaring horn. 

“Bruce?” He groaned, trying to push himself up. 

“Bruce, what happened?”

Silence. 

“Bruce?!”

“Bruce?!!”

Silence was Jack’s peace. It was his sanctuary. And right then, it was his torturer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahahahahaha cliffhanger af


	3. Temporary fix

Guys, please forgive me, but this isn't an update (sorry for getting your hopes up). 

I'm here to tell you that due to family issues (my grandma is really sick) I won't be writing any time soon. 

I'll have you know that there is only one more chapter of this story (I know it's short, but I hope you'll like it anyways) and I will set to finishing it and posting after my life gets out of the crapper. 

I don't know how long it will be, but please be patient with me! 

I lurv you all!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its finally here!! The end. I hope you all like it, even though it strayed from its original course. At first I just wanted endless fluff, but then some angst and drama happened, it'll be okay tho. Trust the force.

Jack didn't want to go to the funeral. He didn't want to have to sit through the droning of a cheaply paid priest and suffer the cries of nameless people who he would never see to mourn for. He didn't want to go, but his father insisted that it was only proper to attend, to offer any bit of comfort that he could to the ones closest to the corpse that now rested in a pine box. 

He didn't think he would be able to handle it without his beloved at his side. 

_Bruce._

He felt a catch in his breath as a jolt of emotional pain lanced through his body. He didn't realize that their were tears welling in his unseeing eyes until his father was nudging a handkerchief into his hand. He made good use of the unnaturally soft cloth and made those tears disappear. He couldn't keep crying like this, Bruce would want him to be strong. 

But Bruce wasn't there. 

Jack bit his lower lip to stop its trembling, he tasted copper and his hankie probably had a stain on it now. He could hear the priest droning about eternal life and happy days in the sky with god and angels everywhere. Jack could imagine that Bruce would have liked to go somewhere with angels, he had deemed Jack his green-haired angel after their shenanigans at the festival. Just minutes before… 

He shuddered at the memory of screeching tires, shattering glass, and his own helpless pleads echoing until he couldn't beg anymore.

He didn't want to think about that and forced his mind to wander elsewhere. He was hurting inside, a deep ache, a longing that sprouted from a hole in his soul. A hole that was empty, left behind when he was separated from the one person he loved most in the world.

He never told Bruce that he loved him. Jack wondered at himself. He couldn't believe that he hadn't told Bruce that he loved him, because despite knowing each other only a short time it had blossomed into that. Even though it was just a little bud, it was indeed love, and Jack longed for nothing more than to be able to hold Bruce in his arms once more and tell him just exactly that. 

For a brief moment his mind wandered back to the time at the hospital and he felt sick remembering it. He shuddered and tried to block it out. 

The funeral ended silently, a quiet prayer whispered collectively by the guests to close the ceramony. Jack didn't know what to say except a small “I'm sorry.” His father led him away from the graveyard and back to their car. 

His hand was on the door handle when a familiar voice greeted him. 

“Good afternoon, Mr Napier, Jack. I had hoped to find you here.” Jack felt a genuine smile tipping up the corners of his mouth at the greeting of the kindly old man who had introduced himself as Alfred when Jack was in the hospital. 

“Good afternoon, Alfred.” Jack greeted him back, turning and outstretching his hand in the direction his voice was coming from. 

Alfred’s hands were old and wrinkled like well-worn leather, but his grip was as strong as iron. Jack admired him. Mr Napier didn't bother to address Alfred, but Jack had expected that. He knew that his father didn't approve of his sexual preferences, and he knew that he didn't accept that Jack loved a man, nor would he accept said man or anyone related to him. 

“I had hoped I might be able to persuade you to return to Wayne Manor with me.” Alfred had a bit of happiness in his voice. “I have a few things that Master Wayne wished to give you, but since he is unable to now I will do it myself.”

“I’d love to!” Jack was more than happy to join Alfred, despite his father’s insistence that he was needed back at his home. The old man was the only person Jack knew that loved Bruce as much as he did, and even with the grim happenings in the past few days he always felt better when he was with Alfred. 

Alfred owned a Rolls Royce, a very comfortable ride that he insisted was as lovely on the outside as she was on the inside. Jack believed him. He let the window down and enjoyed the wind blowing in his hair as they drove away. 

The ride to Wayne Manor was far from quiet, it was filled with gentle conversation. Both parties were happy to have someone to tell their stories to, sharing back and forth the amusing times they had spent with their mutual loved one. Jack missed him dearly. 

Wayne Manor was intimidating in most ways, as a mansion definitely should be. It was large and grand, marbled floors and crystal chandeliers, lush carpets and designer lamps. Alfred made sure to describe it all in great detail for Jack to enjoy. The gloomy attitude from the funeral was quick to wear off and Jack soon found himself laughing along with the old butler as they talked of the history of an old China teacup. 

It was near an hour later before the tour led upstairs, and Jack felt his stomach tighten when Alfred led him towards the bedroom where Bruce would lay his head down at night. He felt a small pinch of sadness in his chest, knowing that he would never be able to lay down next to the beautiful billionaire for the first time in his bed and let Bruce steal his cherry then and there. 

The room was eerily silent when they walked inside. Jack could barely hear anything over the sound of his own heart thudding in his chest as he walked over to the bed and let himself flop down onto it with an exhausted groan. 

_“Holy mother of Jesus!_ ” Jack jumped at the shout. He shoved himself into a halfway sitting position and groaned. 

“Did I hit your leg again?” He asked, only half-worried, and mostly amused by the little puppy-whining his boyfriend was doing. 

“You damn near sat on my leg!” Bruce snapped, his voice not holding any real venom. “Its already broken, please don't make it worse.”

Jack probably would have rolled his eyes if it would have worked for him to roll his eyes, but he hadn't ever been sure how to do that exactly, so he just gently toed his shoes off and crawled across the bed to snuggle up against Bruce’s side instead. “I missed you.” He murmured softly, pressing a delicate kiss to the older man’s shoulder.

“You always miss me.” Bruce almost sounded like he thought it was funny. _Almost._

“I have the right!” Jack defended, pouring his lip and not giving a shit that he sounded like a naughty kid. “Don't tell me that I don't after what I've been through!” And he did, too. He bit down on his lip and hid his eyes as if to try to stop the memory from pouring back into his mind...

_It was late at night and the sun had gone down hours ago. The hospital waiting room was deadly quiet, which made Jack feel more uncomfortable than ever. The chair was hard underneath of him and the air was cold, it held a sharp bite of antiseptic and other various cleaners. It made Jack’s temples throb._

_He had been waiting for hours. He developed several nasty cricks in his neck and his back from sitting in an uncomfortable chair for so long, and his head was beginning to droop with how tired he felt, but he refused to let himself fall asleep. He needed to know if Bruce was okay!_

_More hours passed and the early morning light was peeking over the horizon and warming Jack’s skin through the windows before the sound of footsteps approaching you was heard. When you noticed it you perked up, your heart and stomach both a messy jumble of nerves._

_“Mr Napier?” Jack nodded, tilting your head up towards the voice, his heart stilling in anticipation. “I'm very sorry, we couldn't save him.”_

Jack wanted to writhe against the bed and scream, he hated remembering that moment. He hated the horrified, helpless feeling that he had been experiencing right then. He hated how it made him want to die. He especially hated the stupid doctor who had assumed that he knew the driver involved in Bruce’s accident. He damn near had a heart attack and yet his love was fine and dandy bar a broken leg and a rib or two. 

“Of course you do, sweetheart. If I had been in your position I probably would have went absolutely mad and committed mass homicide.” Bruce answered, a bit of teasing in it. “But it was just a mistake, and I am just fine.” A rough hand found Jack’s and squeezed it tenderly. “So you don’t need to worry so much, it's probably not good for you.”

Jack didn't know if he could answer, all of his emotions from earlier boiling up again as he tried to force words to come out of his mouth to describe how he was feeling. 

“I… I almost lost you, Bruce.” A hint of tears made his voice weak. “You can't imagine what it was like today, listening to the dirt hitting that pine box as I walked away. I was so scared that I was having a dream and I would wake up and it would really be you in there.” He buried his face in Bruce’s chest, his free hand clinging to the soft cotton of the older man’s shirt. “I can't imagine living without you here, Bruce, I love you.”

He didn't expect to hear laughter. Bruce’s chest rumbled with it anyways, hopefully not enough to disrupt the stitches on his side. When he spoke, his voice was tender; loving. “You're really adorable, do you know that?” Jack had no idea how to react to this response. “I'm sorry that I worried you, babe,” Bruce said, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into Jack’s palm. “If I could have avoided being hit by a car I would have, but if it meant I couldn't save you then none of it would have been worth it, so I can't say that I regret what I did.”

Tears took a trek down Jack’s cheeks as his listened to his beloved. His heart felt full and happy, but that happened whenever he was around the older man, so he knew that it was just a response to being so close to the person that he loved. 

“I know that this is hard for you, especially after what happened at the hospital, but it's going to be okay. We’re going to be okay, and after my leg heals we’re going to fly to Paris or some other sickly romantic tourist destination and have crazy, wild sex on silk sheets while we profess our love to each other.”

Jack couldn’t help the giggle that escaped at those words. “Of course, that sounds wonderful.” He said, cheered just by Bruce’s positive attitude. There were still tears in his eyes, but as he lay there and talked to Bruce for the following hours they slowly dried and after a while it seemed as if they hadn't ever existed at all. 

~~~

Several months passed by and the winter snows were covering Wayne Manor. Though it was cold outside, it was toasty warm inside thanks to Alfred’s dedicated tending to the manor’s many fireplaces. 

It was early morning when Jack woke up to a hand carding through his hair. He yawned sleepily and stretched his limbs out in that way that Bruce would forever tease him of. His leg slipped out of the blankets and he didn't bother to cover it, just rolled over and trapped the covering between his thighs as he nuzzled his nose as closely into Bruce’s side as he could get it. “I dun’ wanna gettup.” He whined. “‘m tired.”

“Of course you are, lazybones.” Bruce’s voice was well-rested and awake. He had probably been awake for hours just watching Jack sleep. Creep. “You didn't go to sleep until like three last night.”

“Whatime’sit?” He didn't even care that his words were slurred like a drunkard’s. He was tired, and maybe he shouldn't have stayed up last night binge-watching Supernatural, but he had finished Season 9 at 10 pm and he just _could not wait_ to see what happened because he _knew_ that Dean’s eyes weren't naturally that color and he _needed_ to know what happened. 

“It’s just past seven.” Bruce said, his hand finding Jack’s hair again, long, shapely fingers teasing over his scalp and lulling him into a happy bliss. “I didn't mean to wake you up. I just like playing with your hair.”

“You've got a hair fetish, I know it.” Jack laughed, pushing himself up onto his elbows and blinking sleepily at his love. Bruce laughed along with him. 

“I don't know if it's a fetish,” Bruce chuckled. “But I do really like it this color. It looks really good on you.”

Jack was used to the compliment, but it still brought just the slightest warmth to his cheeks. “I think it might have been the permanent green hair that finally made my dad decide that he didn't want me at home anymore.” He snickered at the memory. “I'm glad I got it.”

Bruce fell silent and Jack mentally kicked himself for mentioning his father. After Bruce’s accident Jack had wanted to spend all of his time with his injured boyfriend, but his father had made him stay away because he didn't approve of the relationship. Eventually Jack had told his father off and declared his love for the older man. It was the next week that Jack had come back with his hair dyed bright green that his father had finally had enough, he kicked Jack out onto the street. Jack had walked out of his father’s life, got into the Rolls with Alfred, and drove away to a better home. 

Despite Jack’s peace with the situation, Bruce always seemed to blame himself for the separation. Jack tried to avoid the subject because it turned his boyfriend into a brooding grump. 

Before the situation could get out of hand he pulled himself up and searched out Bruce’a mouth with his fingertips and joined them with his own. The kiss was stiff at first, but Jack wore down Bruce’s hesitance with the slow, languid kisses that needed to be shared in the mornings. Soon he was able to relax back against the bed as Bruce shifted himself enough to turn his head to the side and meet Jack’s kisses with the lazy passion that both adored. 

When they finally decided to get up it was well past nine am, and Jack couldn't think of many better ways to spend a morning. 

~~~

It was nine months after Bruce’s accident that he started planning their trip. Jack had teased him that a person could have had a baby in the time that he had been down. Bruce had simply stole a kiss from the younger man to shut him up. Jack didn't mind. 

They discussed a lot of different options, such as Paris, Hawaii, Ireland, even Greece, Jack had also volunteered that he had always wanted to visit Rome. Expenses were no worry, thanks to Bruce’s billionaire status, which he kept reminding Jack when he would complain that something sounded “so expensive”. Jack got a kiss on the forehead and a hand fisting gently in the curly green hair on the back of his head. “You pick out exactly what you want,” Bruce had said. “I want to give you the world.”

After that it wasn't hard to decide and their plans were finalized within several weeks. But they weren't scheduled to leave for a couple more months, so they just found plenty of other ways to entertain themselves in the time remaining. Poor Alfred had to clean up after them, but the butler never complained, though Jack did find him mumbling to himself about insatiable teenagers or something of the like.

Harley came to visit them often, partially because she missed getting to see Jack, and partially because she loved Alfred’s cooking and he was more than happy to cook up a buffet for her when she so much as blinked her eyelashes at him. 

It was just three weeks before their trip and Jack had invited Harley over because she insisted she had someone important for him to meet. Bruce had made his way downstairs and was sitting in the living room when the door rang, and Jack was sprawled across his lap. His leg was plenty healed, so Bruce had insisted. Jack knew that it was just so Bruce could touch his hair some more. Creep. 

Three sets of footsteps entered the livingroom, Alfred’s smooth, precise steps, Harley’s distracted start-stop way of exploring, and another set, these ones vaguely familiar, but not enough that Jack could remember who they belonged to. 

“Hey, guys!” Harley’s voice was welcome to Jack’s ears. “I've missed you, it's been like weeks.”

“Two weeks.” Bruce was trying to sound perturbed, but failed. Jack sat up and smiled. 

“Well, you know you're always welcome, Harley.” He said, knowing that he would probably regret that someday when they came home and found Harley lounging on the couch, with every intention of moving in. 

“Yeah, well I would love to stay, but I already got an offer that I can't refuse.” A soft laugh that was not Harley’s followed that statement. 

“Who's this?” Jack asked, turning around, not really knowing which way to turn his head. 

“Yeah, that's my new roommate slash girlfriend.” Harley tap-tipped across the floor and led the other girl over to the couch. “This is Pamela Isley, you remember her, don't you?”

Jack did vaguely remember her. He extended his hand, smiling kindly when a smaller one slipped into his own. “Its very nice to hear from you again, Pamela, especially under such happy circumstances.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Her voice was delicate and yet rough at the same time. Jack liked it. “Congrats to you two as well. Its nice to see you landed yourself with such a great catch.” 

“Thank you.” Jack said, and Pamela laughed. 

“I was talking to your boyfriend, hon.”

Jack warmed at the compliment, and they rest laughed at him. “Believe me, I know just how lucky I am.” Bruce said. “Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you, Pamela.”

The rest of the day progressed without a problem, Alfred prepared a fabulous dinner, and Harley wouldn't quit insisting until he was sitting at the dinner table with them to enjoy the delicious meal. They all ended up in the kitchen together afterwards, doing the dishes. Bruce got to dry because he didn't have to walk around a lot. Harley teased him about being lazy. Jack and Alfred confirmed that he was just lazy, and they all laughed about it. 

It was later in the evening and everyone was settled in the entertainment room, Jack was cuddled on the couch with Bruce as a movie played. Harley and Pamela had decided to stay the night and were making themselves comfortable on another one of the couches in the entertainment room. Alfred had supplied them with a mountain of pillows and blankets, and they seemed to be enjoying them a lot. 

It was warm and pleasant and it felt like home. An especially funny part of the movie passed and the room exploded into laughter. Harley’s outrageous snorts, Pamela’s more restrained giggles, Alfred’s gentlemanly chortling, and Bruce’s amused chuckles. It was something he had never known before. 

Growing up he had been certain that his family was ashamed of him for being blind, even though he couldn't help it. They sent him to a blind school and hired tutors to help him with his homework. He had barely known them and he had no siblings. He had never known family. 

As he sat there in the dark, only the warmth of Bruce’s body for him to hold, the cheery laughter of the people around him, he knew that he had finally found a family. He smiled to himself and sighed, completely and utterly content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm babybatjokes on tumblr, so give me a ring. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the story!!


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